These Bloody Nights Spent
by Countess Verona Dracula
Summary: Mina Harker tries to deny her feelings for Dorian Gray, but his eyes and his exploits seem to draw her deeper and deeper into his web. Finally she gives in and a deadly game of lust, betrayal and bloodshed begins...
1. Author's Note

These Bloody Nights Spent  
  
A.N.~ Woohoo my muses knocked on my door at 10:00 last night and I finally had the inspiration to start my Mina and Dorian fics! Obviously, this is based on the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, but is set before the movie and after Dracula (so Jonathon Harker and the rest are dead as they say in the movie... I know that's not how is happens in the book) when Mina and Dorian meet for the first time. Oh, and the perspective won't be the way it is in the prologue throughout the whole fic: it'll still be from Mina's perspective but she won't refer to Dorian as 'you' the whole time... I did so in the prologue to give a sense of her reminiscing on a later date. Rated R for mild gore in the first chapter and in chapters to come as well as lemons in chapters to come.  
  
Plot~ Mina Harker tries to deny her feelings for Dorian Gray, but his eyes and his exploits seem to draw her deeper and deeper into his web. Finally she gives in and a deadly game of lust, betrayal and bloodshed begins...  
  
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	2. Prologue

We met at a tavern. Outside milky snowflakes fluttered anxiously on the wind like butterflies; they danced in side like moths drawn to a flame when the door opened. London was lost to the throes of a bitter winter, her throbbing heart chilled by heavy blankets of snow, the roads, arteries, that spread from it frozen, its blood, the people, having seeped into the houses that lay among the intertwined arteries and veins; that was where the light reigned and justice was seen done. Branching from the arteries and veins were the alleyways, capillaries, the dark roads I called my home; there blackness was supreme and bloodthirsty betrayal ran rampant. But during winter all was dark and blood ran cold; the thriving city of London grew sluggish as late autumn gained a strangle-hold, finally suffocating and growing still and numb under the midwinter snows. Perhaps the reason my vampiric heart reveled so in that dark winter was because it was so much like death.  
  
The faces of the tavern were ruddy and bloated, pale from the bitter cold and nibbled to red from the frost's bite. Your face was healthily aglow thought, amidst all the cadaverous gloom. My eyes flew to you the instant you entered the room. How out of place you seemed, the bright luster in your eyes cutting through the murkiness of the tavern as a fine-edged sword through flesh. Your eyes met mine and a faint smile traced your lips, as though you were amused by the sight of a fine lady in a lowly tavern. I held a metal goblet, filled with a thick, blood-red wine, in one hand, and calmly I sipped from it while you meandered towards me, though I would not call this aimless, for you had all the purpose of a lion approaching its prey. That thought occurred to me then; an unbidden tremble tingled in its wake.  
  
"Might I have the pleasure of buying you something stronger?" Your voiced asked in a purr as you seated yourself beside me, indicating my drink.  
  
"After I have the pleasure of knowing your name." Came my cool reply. Another grin, almost seductive this time, ran across your lips.  
  
"But of course your highness," Your elegant voice mocked. Outrage clutched at my throat, but your hand took mine and you raised it to your soft lips, pressing their gentle warmth into the fragile cold of my hand. "Dorian Gray." Another shudder ripped through me at your sweet voice. A chuckle rose from your throat at the look in my ice blue eyes: a mangled look of shock, anger and blatant curiosity. You ordered two drinks of warm brandy and handed one of them to me. We downed them slowly, watching each other carefully. My eyes searched yours, looking for something in them, but I could not be sure that I wanted to find it, ot, indeed, what it was I sought.  
  
"Might I inquire your name?" You asked.  
  
"Mina Harker." I replied stiffly.  
  
"Would you care to go somewhere else, Mina?" You asked. I frowned and opened my mouth to tell you how forward and impudent it was of you to ask such a thing, but that something in your eyes froze me, held me there, locked in that immortal moment. I do not think it was of my own volition when I said yes, but it was said. You took me by the arm and led me out onto the frozen streets of London, still as death in the twilight hours. I do not know how or even why I began to love you, just that it was on that first, mercifully bloodless night. 


	3. Alive

A.N.~ Hey peoples! I'm going to try really hard to keep Mina and Dorian in character for this... I know LXG had its bad points but the overall idea was awesome, so later I'll be doing a sequel to this and to LXG to complete my little trilogy... Oh and thanx to the reviewers on my story 'the Sweetest Sin', hopefully you guys find your way over here... But anyways, on with the show!  
  
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Chapter 1: Alive  
  
I walked with Dorian as far as the docks, but decided that it was far enough. I hardly knew the man for crying out loud! I cleared my throat and he turned to me, his eyebrow raised, a cocky grin on his lips, his hands behind his back. Something about the pose enflamed me, but whether in anger or in longing I cannot say.  
  
"Yes?" He asked evenly, his voice the merest degree away from a mocking tone.  
  
"I think I have come quite far enough with you Mr. Gray, too far to be proper, and I shall return to my lodgings. Perhaps I shall meet you again." I said shortly, turning away. Something about him frightened and unsettled me, and for a vampire to be unsettled there must be something truly wrong. His face twisted further into a mocking grin.  
  
"But would it be 'proper' as you say for so beautiful a woman to be walking home alone at night?" He purred innocently, his eyes roaming over my face before dropping to my breast and observing the ample amount of cleavage my tight bodice revealed. I huffed up in anger, drawing my scarf across my chest.  
  
"I can take care of myself."  
  
"But how shall I ever find you again?" He asked, adopting a jeering version of a distressed suitor's voice. My clenched hands trembled.  
  
"Well you may escort me home but..." My voice trailed off as he stepped closer and in a most deceptive gentlemanly way took my arm, his eyes warm and full of sincerity. God what is wrong with me? I thought. How does he do this to me? I was quite muddled by his behavior, unsavory and appalling at first but now so gentlemanlike and tender, so I bowed my head slightly and accepted his arm, leading him back towards the small house whose front door was in an alleyway I had chosen as my residence. Upon reaching it I removed my arm from his and opened the door, stepping inside and then turning to face Dorian.  
  
"Good night." I said, expecting him to leave. He leaned closer and rested one hand on the doorway, his head only inches away from mine.  
  
"I shall see you again." He said, his wayward eyes traveling down my throat and to the low neck on my dress. The blood drained from my face, partly because I was enraged and partly because I enjoyed his attention. I slammed the door in his face, well-nigh throwing it off the hinges, but it could not shut out his mocking laughter, which lingered with me all that night.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Somehow he knew not to disturb me that day and I slept fitfully, awaking every hour or so to check my door, as if afraid that I would find him there, still mocking my fake chastity. My apprehension reached its peak when I awoke that night and began to pace. I was eager to feed, but knew somehow that Dorian would come for me and I feared that I would miss him. A string of highly unladylike curses slid out of my lips as I paced, starting and reaching for a knife at the soft knock on my door. The knife was still clenched in my alabaster hand when I tentatively inched the door open. I was met with the sight of Dorian's cocked eyebrow and his taunting smile.  
  
"Afraid that it was your husband?" He asked. My cheeks colored.  
  
"My husband is dead Mr. Gray." I spat distastefully at the look on his face.  
  
"My deepest, deepest apologies." He derided, bowing low and exposing his neck. How dearly I wished to snap it... When he came out of his bow he offered me his arm with a cocky smile.  
  
"What makes you think I will go out with you this night?" I cried, not checking my anger. Dorian resumed his position from the night before, his gorgeous, youthful face only inches from mine.  
  
"I don't think love. I know." He purred, one of his fingers tracing my jaw. My stomach churned at his touch and I struggled to speak.  
  
"Well I... Suppose there's no harm in a little jaunt around town..." I weakly replied, taking his arm.  
  
We said very little as we walked, arm and arm, down the snowy streets of London. I don't think there was much need for us to speak, the warmth of our arms linked said enough. Every once in a while I paused to look inside a shop before tugging Dorian on. He never grew exasperated as Jonathon always had. He simply noted which shop it was I had stopped at then matched his pace with mine and smiled at me. I was to busy avoiding his eyes or else I might've seen the self-satisfaction in them. The last shop we stopped at was a jewelry store; it was there we tarried the longest. I had seen a ring on display; it matched my wedding ring exactly. A single tear slipped down my cheek. I had used the ring to mold the stamp that sealed away Jonathon's diaries, those terrible accounts that spoke of his imprisonment with Count Dracula. If I had never opened that package, if I had never broken that seal, I wouldn't be where I was. After a long moment of staring at the ring, I began to walk away, Dorian close behind. We bid goodnight early and went our separate ways.  
  
Every night he came for me, every night I resisted coming with him at first, but I would look into his eyes and be swept away. At first we said very little, but as we stopped at the shops a small conversation would begin, usually with Dorian asking me what I liked in the window. The next night he would usually arrive with some small trinket for me: a rose the first night, a bottle of my favorite wine the next, and then new scarf. One night he arrived with a box in his hands and a grin on his face.  
  
"For you." He smiled, handing me the box.  
  
"Thank you." I gifted him with a smile of my own, sitting down and gently opening the package. Inside was a dark blue petticoat lined with soft black fur and fastened with elegant gold buttons. Another smile, a shy one this time, spread its way across my lips as I slid off my old and tattered one and donned it, walking over to Dorian. "It fits me well." I beamed.  
  
"That it does." Dorian replied with a grin of his own, not remarking lewdly, as I'm sure he would've loved to, on the way it hugged my ample curves. Arm in arm, we walked out once more.  
  
Gradually Dorian came earlier and earlier, taking me out to dinner at fancy restaurants on these occasions. My favorite was a rather large and expensive one. It was a deep emerald green with white steps leading up past rich gold pillars, vibrant against the winter gloom. Inside a large fire crackled and roared beside our favorite table, which was situated directly in the middle of a plush, circular rug from an old castle, also green covered in gold fleur-de-lises with red roses that brought out the crimson carpeting underneath it. The waiters no longer needed to ask what we wanted. Dorian always got a steaming bowl of New England clam chowder with oyster crackers on the side, and I always ordered a thick, rare steak with corn and breadsticks. I always savored the steak as it still had much blood in it. I was feeling very weak due to the lack of blood in my diet and the steak helped me alleviate this. After we had finished, Dorian and I eyed each other across the table, our eyes glinting in the firelight. A lone violinist played on the nearby cherry wood stage and I listened to his music, letting it soothe me. I did not even notice when Dorian reached over and wrapped my cold hand in the warmth of his, bringing it to his lips for a kiss and then continuing to hold it, stroking it as I fell further into my dreamlike state.  
  
When the song ended I opened my eyes and blushed when I realized that I was holding Dorian's hand, but did not withdraw it. He smiled softly.  
  
"Did you enjoy the music?" He asked.  
  
"Very much." I replied, returning his smile.  
  
"Would you care to dance?" He asked, standing up and offering his hand. I blushed further.  
  
"I'd be delighted."  
  
We stood as the orchestra retuned themselves and prepared to play. Dorian walked up to the conductor and whispered something in his ear. He nodded and turned to the orchestra, telling them what he had in mind. A roguish twinkle and a devilish grin were upon Dorian's face as he approached me.  
  
"What is it we shall dance to?" I asked.  
  
"The tango." Dorian's smile widened.  
  
"I daresay I haven't done that in a long time." I said faintly.  
  
"You'll remember." His smile was smaller this time, but infinitely more seductive.  
  
The dance started slowly, and so we danced, gradually joined by more couples. It grew more intense by the minute, faster by the second. Dorian was a phenomenal dancer, evoking an unforeseen passion in me as we twirled around the room. I had forgotten about the dips in the tango until he threw me into one of them, causing me to gasp as my scarf, used for purposes of chastity, fluttered away and I nearly fell, but Dorian caught me at just the right instant. I lost myself totally to him after that, giving in to his rhythms and his movements, molding my body to his and feeling the sensual interplay of his muscles. Rapidly growing ecstasy flooded me as the music reached its crescendo and we reached our climax, going into a dip that nearly had me on the floor. The crowd applauded us and Dorian veritably basked in the attention, smiling smugly and bowing, his hand not letting go of mine. We were sweating when we exited and it seemed that much colder.  
  
"That was a wonderful night Dorian, thank you." I beamed, true and exquisite happiness alight on my face.  
  
"Thank you for sharing it with me." He purred, touching my cheek. My stomach clenched and unclenched and my muscles rippled along my arms at his touch. I knew that I could not hold out much longer without blood. Such intimacy, and such feelings, made it harder for me to keep control over myself and I knew that I was about to snap. When I smiled, Dorian may have been able to see the ivory sabers of my fangs, and I realized this too late.  
  
"I really must be going now." I said quickly, looking away. Dorian sighed and leaned in, pressing a warm and moist kiss onto my cheek.  
  
"Good night then." He whispered, turning and walking away, his long cane rapping smartly on the cobblestone with every step.   
  
My pace was a dead sprint as I darted away from him and into the nearest alley, ripping off the petticoat he had given me four days before with reckless abandon as well as my skirt, leaving me in only my creamy white shirt and my pantalets. I leapt onto the nearest wall, climbing it with catlike ease. Ecstasy, sweet, pure euphoria, coursed through me like nourishing blood streaming down my throat in a crimson tidal wave. He made me feel alive, so alive! A man was standing on the next roof, watching the stars; I leapt silently at him and my fangs piercing his throat before he had time to scream. Weird gurgling and groaning noises came up from his now mangled throat and blood poured out of his mouth in a ghastly fountain of scarlet. I drank my fill, but it left me unsatisfied. Dorian had unleashed something in me, something wild, fierce, free and untamed, bound by no law of humanity. Something, a deep stirring within me, told me what I should do. A wicked laugh bubbled up from my stomach like a growl and I plunged my clawed hand into the now-dead man's chest, breaking his ribs and shattering his sternum. When I pulled it out, I clutched his heart in my cold alabaster hand.  
  
I jumped from rooftop to rooftop, seen only by the silver sickle of the moon. I howled with wild glee like the primal creature I was, the heart still clutched in my hand. At last I stopped on a massive building with a peaked roof, the climax that Dorian had unknowingly wrought in me rolling through my body in explosive waves. I threw my arms back over my head and tipped my head back, near-naked and covered in blood in the silver light of the moon. I howled without caring who saw me or heard me, because I had felt something deep and profoundly stirring, something I had not felt in a very long time:  
  
I was alive.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
A.N.~ Wow, there's my first chapter! I already have the second planned (CAUTION: Possible lemon!) so it shouldn't be long. Hope you likes it! Reviews wanted, but please no flames. I know a lot of people didn't like LXG, I don't need YOU to tell me that, so if you don't like LXG and you didn't like my story then just don't read it. If You absolutely HAVE to vent your hatred for the movie AND my writing then at least do it under an anonymous account so I can delete it, savvy? 


	4. Games of Courtship, pt 1

A.N.~ here we go again! I'm not sure if Mina's eyes are blue or green since it says green in the movie novelization by K.J. Anderson (I'm stealing one of their scenes that was not in the movie for this chapter and the next) but in the movie her eyes seem blue... Oh well, c'est la vie! I hope I am not rushing this fic, I just want to get to the good stuff right away.  
  
Review Responses:  
  
Drucilla: I didn't mean to show off, I just thought it a fitting metaphor since Mina is a vampire (I always like a slight obsession with blood in them) and also because cities are often portrayed as living things.  
  
Graymoon74: Thanks!  
  
elvine wood nymph: thanks!  
  
icewhitelady: thanks!  
  
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Chapter 2:  
  
Games of Courtship, pt. 1  
  
I was still half-wild and laughing in a slightly insane manner when I got back to my dwelling, so I collapsed on my nest of blankets and pillows with careless abandon and curled up into a ball to quietly allow my system to digest the blood and strengthen my vampiric abilities once more, which could become painful. It would restore my amazing strength, which had become depleted; ripping out the man's heart had *not* been easy. I looked at the still organ lying in my hand and now, as my sanity returned, wondered what the hell I should do with it. I sighed, and with my sharp nails, dug a hole in the floor, lowering it down and then covering it with dirt. Now I felt extremely weary, and willing allowed my head to drop to the pillows surrounding me, staining their white with red as blood dribbled inconspicuously out of my slightly open mouth.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
I felt much better upon awakening around noon. I could not say what it was that had awoken me at first, so I looked around bewilderedly for a moment or two before my blue eyes settled upon a small slip of parchment resting on my low desk in the corner. A faint, thin breeze of chilly afternoon air slid through my still-open door, smelling deliciously of the passersby, all innocent and defenseless, with tender necks just waiting to be ripped open by white fangs in the depths of the night... I shuddered. My vampiric side always frightened me. 'Besides, I just fed.' I reminded myself, straightening my mahogany hair. 'I shouldn't be thinking such things.' I took the slip of parchment into my hand and was surprised to find that it was still warm as though someone had recently handled it. It read, in fanciful cursive writing:  
  
Mina,  
  
It would be my deepest pleasure if you would join me at the opera and then at my house for dinner tonight. I am sorry that it is on such short notice and I hope that I have not disturbed your sleep in delivering this as I know you were out late the last few nights, (my apologies) but I wish for you to know as soon as possible that you might be ready when I come to see you this evening. I eagerly anticipate your answer.  
  
Much love,  
  
Dorian Gray  
  
I had a very hard time reading his signature, although I did not need to. Only he could produce such a mocking image in my head! Every word dripped of his mockery as though spoken aloud to me and I almost ripped the parchment in my fury. However I calmed my temper and sat back to think about it. It was time for me to start getting back at dear Dorian for all his teasing, and I was going to play the same game with him as he played with me. A wicked smile curved my voluptuously full red lips.  
  
"How fun this will be." I purred to myself, stroking the parchment lovingly.  
  
If only that night, supposed to be one of games, did not have to lead me spiraling down into the bloody darkness of betrayal.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Dorian came at exactly sundown, dressed to kill in a black suit with a gold pocket watch and a red bowtie. His long cane was tucked into the crook of his arm while a top hat was cocked at a jaunty angle on his thick, dark brown hair. With bravado he swept it off his head and bowed low to me.  
  
"A pleasure as always, dear Ms. Wilhelmina." He purred, taking my hand as it to kiss it. I slid it faster then the eye could see out of his hand and back into my black woolen muff.  
  
"Is it?" I asked dryly. Dorian did not seem the least bit fazed by my quickness; on the contrary, he seemed highly amused and there was a self-satisfied glint in his eyes as though I had proven something he had previously suspected. Or, perhaps, it was a facade, I could not tell. That was what so frustrated me about him. A suspicious frown flickered across my face for a brief instant as I tried to read his expression, but my face returned to its cold splendor before he could catch a good glimpse of it.  
  
"Why Mina, I'm hurt." Dorian said with fake anguish in his voice and pose as he lay his hand over his heart and sank down on one knee.  
  
"Oh, that was never my intention!" I cried in sudden, and subtly fake, distress. "Do forgive me." I pleaded, still faking my attitude. Dorian straightened and replaced his hat.  
  
"If you continue to utilize your acting expertise like this, darling, I shall have no need to see the opera later tonight." He smiled, an enigmatic gleam burning brightly in his eyes. He seemed to be taunting me and daring me at the same time. A competitive fire leapt up from once-cold ashes inside me and I challenged the light in his eyes.  
  
"You don't even need to act, love; you're a Greek tragedy all by yourself." I spat in smug retort. "If you don't mind I'd like to go now." I forcefully said. Feeling triumphant, as Dorian had no evident response to my jeer, I turned slowly away, my thick black cloak swishing around me, disclosing just enough of my gown to entice Dorian. Without warning, he seized me arm and spun me around.  
  
My stomach caught in my throat as he pulled me forcefully to him, putting one arm around my waist to secure me there. Soft and warm, his breath blew against my face. It smelled faintly of sweet tobacco and sherry, a scent I had unknowingly come to identify as his, and I would've closed my eyes and savored the sultry closeness we shared in the winter cold had I not gazed into his eyes. They had a fierce, intense and feral look in them and they seemed as the sky above, dark, clouded and stormy; I grew afraid as I felt myself beginning to fall into them as one who stands on a precipice teeters over the edge, tempted to fall into the paradise they see below but unsure if they'd survive the drop. A very gentle movement began to stir me from my reverie and at first I could not figure out what it was. I looked more closely into Dorian's eyes to see little lights dancing there. I was confused. Why were they twinkling like that? My eyes roved downwards to his full, curving mouth and I realized why. Finally, I regained my sense of hearing.  
  
Dorian was laughing.  
  
He was laughing the stupid, hateful, sardonic laugh that he had probably spent an ungodly amount of time perfecting. I felt like ripping him to shred where he stood, and I felt my face heat up as I jerked away from him and clenched my fists, mouthing a few soundless words of rage. Somehow, this only caused him to laugh more, leaning heavily on his cane for support.  
  
"What is so funny Mr. Gray?" I demanded furiously. He only continued to laugh! I could hardly bear it a second longer if I did not know what it was and my cheeks were heating to a most unbearable temperature. As I came to realize this, I realized what it was that Dorian was laughing at.  
  
I was blushing.  
  
His laughter began to fade and he straightened, his eyes still twinkling. My eyes were still smoldering as he began to walk away, clearly expecting me to follow. When he realized that I had planted my feet, squared my shoulders and set my jaw in a classic look of obvious defiance. Smirking, (how dearly I wished to rip his face to shreds when he did that!) he turned his head toward me slightly.  
  
"Coming?" He called teasingly. Again he was daring me, asking for it...I stormed coolly past him, ignoring his cheeky smile. Two could play at this game.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
We were silent as we walked towards Dorian's waiting carriage, which was a sumptuous black and silver affair led by a team of fine, sleek chestnut mares whose warm breath unfurled in the cool evening air like smoke curling out of a dragon's nostrils. Dorian opened the door by means of a silver handle shaped like a lion running and offered me his hand to help me in, smiling smugly. I threw him a cold glance.  
  
"I have no need of your assistance, seeing as I'm a grown-up, Mr. Gray." I said softly, taking care to add a deadly edge to my voice as I carefully climbed into the plush velvet interior of the carriage. Dorian feigned shock as he ascended to sit beside me, closing the door and signaling to his driver as he did so. I leaned over to pat his arm, being certain to rub noses with him and allow my lips to come tantalizingly close to his as I spoke. "Don't worry, I understand that this might be an advanced concept for you." I purred, icing my words with acidic venom, and drew back before he could lean in to my would-be kiss; he was clearly disgruntled by this, and it was my turn to offer a smug smile.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
It took a fair amount of time to reach the opera house, and Dorian and I said little on the way. However, there was an incident when his driver took a rather sharp turn and we ended up in a most compromising position. *Dorian* seemed quite pleased with the arrangement and made a few lewd remarks that i decline to record. While we headed up the innumerable steps that led to our private box seat, Dorian chattered about the opera we'd see and I found myself wearied. My God he loved to hear himself talk! Without thinking I rubbed my eyes as if tired and what transpired after this left me shocked and befuddled.  
  
He turned to me and gently put a hand on each shoulder, willing me, without speaking, to look at him. His eyes were soft and tender, and concern puckered his fair forehead; I felt the sudden urge to smooth away those offending creases.  
  
"Please do tell me if I bore you, I know I tend to ramble." He said earnestly. I looked down, ashamed for my hateful and vengeful tendencies toward him. Perhaps he did care... I nodded in acquiescence to his request. "All right then, shall we?" He asked, sliding his arm around my waist. My feelings of guilt slowly melted away as we continued our ascent, and judging by where his hand ad crept up to by the time we reached our box, I knew I'd have plenty of reasons to tear him apart before the night was over.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The opera was exceedingly melodramatic and boring compared to Dorian's running commentary of it. I found myself fighting the urge to laugh in the middle of the dramatic and morose finale of the first act since Dorian found entirely too much to make fun of. ("Look! As she bends over you can see her next costume change underneath her dress... And some more at that!" "There's no hole after the sword pierced him." "Why is there a crack in the stage?" "Someone burped backstage... Or was that you, Mrs. Harker?) At last the thick red curtains closed and someone announced that there would be an hour long intermission. Still stifling a laugh at Dorian's jokes, I stood to stretch my legs, Dorian watching. At length he spoke.  
  
"Let's get out of here." He said abruptly.  
  
"But you paid for the tickets!" I cried in shock. Dorian may have driven me out of my mind, but there was still some guilt at such wanton waste of money inside me.  
  
"Well there's plenty more money where it came from." He replied briskly. "Besides I can think of a few games we can play that might repay the debt." Came his seductive comment as one of his gloved hands brushed up my arm.  
  
"Oh really now?" I whispered huskily.   
  
Leaning into his touch, I unashamedly looked into his eyes before standing up and sauntering off, flashing suggestive glances over my shoulder as I continued my sensual mosey down the stairs, hiding teasingly behind the curve of the wall. An eager light appeared in his eyes and he enthusiastically followed me, catching up fairly quickly. He leaned close to me, watching me intently like a cat cornering a mouse. He licked his lips and pressed closer, but then I dove out of the way, reappearing innocently behind him. I smirked coyly and ambled down the stairs, darting quickly away to hide behind a plant or the next curve of the wall whenever he got too close. He began to get frustrated with out game as we reached the bottom of the stairs and I hid behind some curtains. This newest hiding place took him the longest to find, and when he triumphantly peeled back the curtain, I leapt away again, graceful as a gazelle even in my impossibly tight dress. I made sure he knew it was tight on me by adjusting the bodice slightly up and down and letting out a long, low breath like a sigh or a groan made in the night. With another smirk, I slid out the door like fog rolling over the sea and out towards the large gardens outside, laughing softly as I did so, a low and tantalizing sound that came up from my throat. Dorian smiled wickedly as he followed, looking to the night sky  
  
and breathing deeply as he prepared to search for me. Somewhere within the garden, my voice sounded.  
  
"Let the games begin..."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
A.N.~ Hate to cut this off where it is, but I don't like my chapters going over five pages and it would've gone waaayyy over it if I had so I'll continue it (hopefully tonight) in another chapter. Reviews are appreciated, and again please no flames! 


	5. Games of Courtship, pt 2

A.N.~ The rating has gone down to PG-13 because I wrote my lemon scene (to appear at the end of this chapter) and if it stays pretty much the way it is there is nothing really R rated about it, just HIGH Pg-13 I guess. On with the show!  
  
Big huggles to my reviewer:  
  
Didly-De-Lioncourt~ Thanks a bunch! Aren't they the greatest? Another really good one is A Place in Thy Memory, go read it!  
  
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Chapter 3  
  
Games of Courtship, pt. 2  
  
With soft, measured footfalls and quiet breath he prowled the maze like a lion stalking its prey, eyes peeled like a hawk's. I'd let out little giggles every so often, just to tease him, and I could hear chuckles of his own, a deep sound like distant thunder springing up from his chest. With inhuman grace, I leapt atop one of the iron statues that were sprinkled throughout the gardens to watch him head in the exactly opposite direction of my current hiding place, and found myself impressed. Even with my tracking abilities he was hard to pinpoint because of his light, padding gait. But, then again, I wasn't using the instincts of the hunter, but those of the hunted.  
  
Knowing that he would never find me if I continued to be so crafty, I let myself grow louder and changed hiding places less and less. At last he cornered me between a healthy green hedge and a brick wall. He leaned over me, a perfectly groomed eyebrow cocked. He wet his lips and slowly leaned closer, closing his eyes mostly, but covertly watching me through his thick eyelashes. Just as my heart caught in my throat and his lips nearly touched mine, he was gone. Simply gone.  
  
I blinked in amazement and disappointment, having hoped for my kiss. I did not know how he had pulled such a trick until I saw that the hedge beside me was wavering slightly, although there was no breeze and its foundations were strong. A grin played across my lips and I settled down to wait, giving him a decent amount of time to get away as my hunter's instincts kicked in.  
  
When I hunted him, it did not take me half as long as it took him to find me as I had the unfair advantage of preternatural vampiric instincts. I cut him some slack at first, but those previously mentioned instincts began to howl in my head to close in for the kill and at last I broke under them, darting silently and gracefully in and around hedges, not seeing them whirl by me in a flurry of green sprinkled with the red of roses and the white of startled moths. I locked in on my prey, who was standing, dubious as a newborn fawn, with his back to me.  
  
A smile leapt across my face. He never stood a chance.  
  
I leapt at him, throwing him to the ground with my weight. Sputtering in shock and the most ruffled I had seen him, he rolled over to stare at me incredulously, his eyebrows knit close together in confusion. I smiled and laughed softly, not moving from my position atop him, and traced the gentle arch of his nose's bridge upward to his frowning forehead. Once more those creases offended me and I gave into my instinct to smooth them away, caressing them lightly and enjoying his slight shudder of delight. Just when I leaned in, tantalizing him with a kiss of my own, I whirled away in a flurry of black, leaving him lying helplessly on the ground. He gave a wicked smile and a laugh, leaping to his feet and bounding after me.  
  
So it went, our endless game, Dorian chasing me, I chasing him. The turns would end with a seductive caress, an almost-kiss, and a peal of laughter. There were no rules, and the object to mercilessly torture your opponent to the point of breaking and submitting. Dorian swiftly grew tired of our little game because of my advantageous instincts which allowed me to locate him, my womanly charms which disarmed him, and my fleetness of foot which allowed me to hide from him. He expressed this displeasure when he cornered me once last time, in the place where he had cornered me before.  
  
He assumed his previous position, but this time, instead of leaning in for my lips, he leaned towards my cheek, nuzzling me softly with his nose and then the side of his face. I could not suppress my shudder.  
  
"Touche." I whispered through it, fighting to keep the tremble out of my low voice.  
  
"But do you not grow tired of our game?" He whispered, allowing a half whine.  
  
"Perhaps." I smiled, watching him through my dark eyelashes. Dorian leaned back to look me in the eyes, seeming disheveled and pitiful as he pleaded with his eloquent eyes. I looked down and twisted nervously, taking care to bump strategically into him a couple times while watching him coquettishly through my eyelashes. At last I smiled and nodded. Arm and arm, lifting the heavy winter air with our light chatter and laughter, we walked to his carriage and stepped inside, telling the driver to head to Dorian's house.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
After an hour or so we reached the outskirts of the city by the murky London docks where dark water churned, lashing out against the rickety old docks and boats. I frowned, looking out the lightly frosted window. I had always thought Dorian lived in the heart of London, or perhaps in the upper class part of it, for every time he left me it was towards there he headed. Surely this was not where he lived. My suspicions were confirmed as the carriage pulled up along a dark and grungy alleyway and came to a halt in front of a darkened doorway. Dorian leapt out lithely and extended his hand for me to take it, which I did, landing softly in the snow beside him. The driver backed up his horses and drove the carriage into a small shed beside the door, which Dorian was unlocking by way of a small rusted key. He opened the door with a flourish, bowing as he held it open for me.  
  
The inside of his house was as impressive as the exterior: it was dimly lit by a few small gas lights along the wall and a faded and stained red rug spanned the distance between the creaking staircase and the doorway in which I stood. To my left I saw a doorway with empty hinges, which led into a dark corridor, and to my right was another door, this one seeming to be locked. Dorian was advancing towards the stairs, beckoning for me to follow, which I did, leaving my heavy cloak on the rack beside the door.  
  
"Excuse the mess down here, I keep the upstairs much better furnished." He said softly, watching the innumerable portraits on the wall uneasily, as if they might spring to life. They all bore an uncanny resemblance to Dorian, and I assumed the whole family tree going back to the Middle Ages was hung there in grimy glory. However, when my frost blue eyes searched for Dorian's likeness, they did not see him, although they were drawn to the white rectangular space on the wall near the bottom, where a portrait had obviously been hung and quite recently. I turned to Dorian to inquire of this, but his eyes penetrated mine like knives in the dark gloom, striking and killing the question before it rose from throat.  
  
I was led past a warm and beautifully furnished library and a dark bedroom to an upstairs dining room, something I found quite interesting. Here Dorian left me, with a warning not to explore the house without me as it was large and I might grow lost. I opened my mouth to ask him if he did not have servants in so large a house to help him, but he was gone and I was left in the large, gothic-style room by myself (A.N.~ think the Gothic Tower in Moulin Rouge).  
  
The room was not well lit as the library had been, but it was for effect and not lack of good lighting. What light there was either a dark blue in color because of the blue glass containers that held them or a soft white. Dark, rich curtains concealed what seemed to be a doorway on the side opposite of where I sat, and behind me was the tall, polished oak door that Dorian had exited by. The windows were of teal and white stained glass in the pattern of diamonds; through them I could see little more then distorted stars and the outline of the dark street below. A sweet scent filled the room, and when I traced the scent to its source, I found a tall, dark plant, probably from a dark jungle somewhere in the world.  
  
As I was inspecting this plant with a scientist's natural curiosity, I could hear Dorian coming closer to the room, so I went back to my seat at the long, dark cherry wood table in my throne-like chair at one end of the table. Dorian Entered just as I was beginning to wonder if I was hearing things, and he was dressed much more casually: a dark purple smoking jacket of silk with black velvet designs, black slacks, and a white shirt with a ruffle peeking out from the neckline of the smoking jacket. On his feet were delicate gray slippers.  
  
In his arms he carried two silver platters, obviously very old. With a faint smile he placed one in front of me and the other at his end of the table, which he casually flopped onto, perched with the grace of a leopard in a tree. I removed the top of my tray and felt a gush of warmth my skin as it escaped its confines; the source was a thick steak, a mashed potato decorated with butter, salt, and parsley, and a goblet of red wine. Dorian's had the same.  
  
"I hope you don't mind, my cook didn't finish the steaks." He said, cutting into his own. I looked up. So he *did* have servants elsewhere.  
  
"You know I like mine rare." I smiled sensuously, cutting mine and slowly eating one piece at a time, fully aware that Dorian was watching me, or, specifically, my cleavage, as I bent over my food and consumed it hungrily. A haughty smile was on his face. We ate mostly in silence as seemed to be our wont, flashing meaningful glances at each other from time to time. At last he finished and approached me, raising his goblet.  
  
"To a beautiful night." I said in sultry tones.  
  
"To a beautiful woman." Dorian corrected me, clinking his goblet against mine lightly before drinking deeply.  
  
My mind swirled as I tasted the wine, which I had not drank throughout the course because the teak was heavily saturated. It was thick, rich and sweet, like the blood of a nobleman. Something about it was carnally inflaming, igniting senses I had never known I possessed. A low moan, almost like a growl, rose up from my throat as I swallowed it, feeling it slide down my throat and into my stomach, shuddering with delight and holding my eyes closed so as to savor it longer.  
  
"Good isn't it?" Dorian's low and seductive voice sounded somewhere behind me. I leaned back in my chair, not opening my eyes, and could feel his balmy breath on my face. The closeness of him made my hand clench on the goblet slightly, and one of its ornate designs pricked me. I put it down, opening my eyes to examine my palm.  
  
"How clumsy of me." I said hoarsely, tightening my hand so he would not see it heal.  
  
"Let me see, Mina. We wouldn't want blood everywhere now," He looked up after trying to break my grip, his glance catching mine meaningfully. Again instincts were enflamed by his look, and my skin felt feverishly hot. "would we?"'  
  
"No," I said, my voice still hoarse. "Not blood."  
  
Perhaps if Dorian Gray had not pressed his lips to mine with passion enough to destroy the foundations of the earth, he would've seen that my eyes were red.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
There was fire in his touch, in his hot lips and his tongue, pillaging my mouth. I felt myself fall but did not feel the ground, it was swept from under me. All the while our lips feverishly coupled and parted like waves lapping against the shore. Dizziness, like looking into the sun, overwhelmed me and I felt a feather lightness beneath me and his hardness above me. Words were whispered in a man's voice, but I did not hear and only shuddered as coldness touched the fire in my skin.  
  
A groan reverberated through the stillness as volcanoes erupted where his skin touched mine and sweat like lava bathed us. His lips were swells no more, but tidal waves pounding onto my body like the ecstasy coursing through my veins. There was a swelling within me and i almost broke but he quelled me with insistent lips. My hands were lost in the dark jungle of his hair, his hands were exploring jungles of their own. Hot nectar gushed out to meet him as his still pillaging tongue trespassed.  
  
Spasms cracked through me like a slave driver's whip and he almost fell away, but soon he met me and something clicked and broke before we were locked as one. Flurries of color and sound swirled around me and my hands dug into his back, a scream passing my wet lips and his as it ended, a weathered storm. Alluring and repulsive scents settled around me and I did not know. Blood flowed and ceased and I did not know. Sheets, cool after our heat, fell around us like a blanket of snow. Our eyes and our lips met once more before I slipped away, down in a foreign field.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
A.N.~ Eh, it didn't seem like R last night.. But now it's sorta on the hinge... Tell me what you think it should be rated and how you liked it, please? *begs* Still no flames! 


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